


The Sound of Plural

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: дезинформация [22]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Domestic Avengers, Fluff, Goodbye Daddy Issues, James Buchanan Stark, M/M, Married Couple, Mostly Sweet, Parenthood, Sad and Sweet, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Is a Mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4969756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers enjoyed running. Possibly more than any person should, really, but even his love of running didn’t explain his inability to stop grinning like a lunatic during his morning run. He was trying desperately to smother a goofy smile each and every time it forced its way back onto his face, but if he thought he was going to get it past Bucky, he was dead wrong.</p><p>Once he’d woken up enough for his brain to function, the reason why became immediately obvious, and Bucky couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Oh my god, you got laid!”</p><p>Set after <em>Operation Iron Snuggle</em>, but before <em>Mother's Day</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sound of Plural

Steve Rogers enjoyed running. Possibly more than any person should, really, but even his love of running didn’t explain his inability to stop grinning like a lunatic during his morning run. He was trying desperately to smother a goofy smile each and every time it forced its way back onto his face, but if he thought he was going to get it past Bucky, he was dead wrong.

Once he’d woken up enough for his brain to function, the reason why became immediately obvious, and Bucky couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Oh my god, you got laid!”

Bucky’s suspicions as to the reasons why Steve looked to be on Cloud 9 were officially confirmed when Steve ran into a tree. This was mostly because the accusation had caught him entirely off guard, prompting him to turn—all wide, guilty eyes—and gape at Bucky. By the time he’d spun back around, there was no way to avoid the tree.

“Ow! What? I— _what_? How?”

Stifling a laugh, Bucky helped his friend up, clapping him on the shoulder before poking him in the side. “You’re glowing, Stevie. He’s _that_ good in bed?”

Steve was bright red in the face, and it definitely wasn’t from the run. “Buck, stop, I’m begging you.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?” He was being serious, because he sure as shit hoped Steve hadn’t gone and gotten himself convinced that Bucky had a problem with him and Sam seeing each other. “We all know you’re together, Steve, it’s kinda obvious."

“Well, yeah, I'd hope so. He was my date to your wedding, Buck. That’s a pretty shitty way to keep something under wraps.”

Bucky gave his friend a playful shove. “So what gives?”

Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times, before downright cringing. “It’s… Hell, maybe it’s a side effect. All I know is the idea of talking with _you_ about my sex life is, uh, horrifically mortifying.”

Bucky blinked at him for what felt like a solid minute, thoughts and memories and emotions all colliding together in a jumble, leaving him temporarily tongue-tied. Just for a moment, he could see Steve as a baby again ( _tiny fingers patting insistently at Tony’s lips, demanding he speak in English_ ) which brought with it the vertigo sensation of trying once again to pin down who and what Steve was to him. The brother he’d never had? His best friend? His _son_? All of those?

“But you’re happy,” he finally managed, figuring the one thing all of the roles had in common was love. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Steve answered immediately. “Very.”

“Good. Although, I’m surprised Sam still wants you, what with that sorry excuse of a beard you’re growing.”

Steve scratched at his jaw, grinning ear to ear. Gone was the clean shaven Steve Rogers they all knew and loved. “Shut up, you’re just mad because Tony made you shave yours off.”

Post-baby Steve had decided to take advantage of his return to adulthood by growing a beard, which had led to Clint growing one, which meant Bucky really had no choice but to participate, turning the whole affair into a competition. Of course, once it was time for the wedding, Tony demanded they all shave, claiming only he, Sam, and Thor had facial hair worthy of photographing. 

Afterwards, he’d more or less insisted Bucky not grow it back again, much to Steve’s delight.

“But Steve’s growing his back,” Bucky had pointed out over a group dinner, only to have Tony come back with, “Cap pulls it off. Yours makes me think scruffy-looking nerf-herder.”

As a result, Steve was lording his beard over Bucky whenever he got the chance. 

Bucky flipped him off, then pulled him into a half-hug, giving in to the urge to muss up Steve’s hair, and kiss the side of his head. Steve gave him a playful shove, and took off running again, leaving Bucky to play catch up.

“You two are adorable, by the way,” he called, sprinting past Steve. 

His lead didn’t last very long. There was a little smack to the back of his head, and then Steve was rushing onward, giving a little whoop of triumph. “Says the newlywed.”

“Not _that_ newly,” Bucky countered, but even the heavy breathing of his run couldn’t hide the underlying layer of sappiness in his voice. Unable to help himself, Bucky worried at his wedding band with his thumb, reassuring himself that it was still there, around his finger, right where Tony had placed it.

“According to Sam, you’re considered a newlywed for the first two years of marriage.”

“Oh, is that what _Sam_ says?” Bucky asked, unable to resist breaking into a teasing sort of sing-song. “Whatever. I’m okay with being adorable.”

Up ahead, the Tower came into view, and Bucky felt his smile grow, a warm sort of excitement flooding his chest. When he glanced to his right, Steve was looking equally anxious to get back home, probably because Sam had finally moved his ass into the Tower with them.

Feeling buoyed by happiness, Bucky dug deep and found another burst of speed, which led to him and Steve frantically racing for the entrance, scaring the daylights out of the few pedestrians up early enough to be in their way.

They were laughing by the time they all but collapsed together in the elevator, slouched shoulder to shoulder against the back. 

When he could speak again, Bucky grinned up at the camera. “Hey, J. Anyone up yet?”

“Mr. Wilson and Doctor Banner are in the communal kitchen, preparing breakfast,” JARVIS said, prompting Steve to give a little fist pump of triumph. Considering he could hear Steve’s stomach growling, Bucky wasn’t sure if it was more for Sam, or the idea of breakfast. “Sir is awake, as well.”

“Workshop?” Bucky figured he could pop up for a quick shower, then head down to grab Tony on the way to breakfast.

“You’ll find him in the penthouse,” JARVIS answered, and something about it felt off.

Thankfully, Steve was too preoccupied with his own lovesick thoughts to notice, busy watching the elevator's display as the numbers ticked up to the communal floor. “I’ll try to save you something,” he said, darting out as soon as the doors opened.

“Eat all the bacon and you’re grounded!”

The doors slid shut, cutting off Steve’s laughter, and leaving Bucky staring at himself in the doors. “He okay, J?”

“I believe so,” JARVIS answered. “He can be found in your meditation room.”

“Thanks, JARVIS.”

The ‘meditation room’ hadn’t been used for that purpose in ages, mostly because there was a hotrod red crib still sitting in there, along with toys, and clothes, and everything else they’d managed to accumulate for Stevie in the short time they’d been a family of three. As far as he knew, Tony hadn’t been back in the room since they’d packed everything up.

Bucky stepped out into the penthouse, and sure enough, the door to Steve’s room was wide open, and Tony was standing inside, leaning heavily on his crutches. That brought Bucky up short, because Tony had shoved the crutches into a closet the moment the cast had come off. Bruce had given him the okay to walk on the leg ( _as long as there wasn’t pain_ ) so he could rebuild the muscles in his calf, and while he’d had a limp for a bit, even that was more or less gone.

Swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat, Bucky continued on into the room. “Hey, Antoshka.”

Tony gave a little twitch, but was smiling when he turned to look over his shoulder. “Mm. Sweaty husband. You always give me the nicest gifts.”

Unable to help himself, Bucky stepped in close, cupped Tony’s face, and kissed him. Softly, sweetly. Then again, and once more for good measure after that, watching Tony’s eyelids droop a bit. When he pulled away, Tony swayed forward, grabbing hold of his shoulder for balance, then made a displeased sound when his hand came into contact with Bucky’s damp shirt.

“Ew, on second thought, clean husbands are nice. Sweaty is only fun when I’m the one getting you that way.”

Bucky kissed him once more, quick, on the corner of his mouth, then stepped away to make a show of looking around the room. Along one wall was the half finished ( _but still beautiful_ ) mural Steve had been painting, the Brooklyn of their childhood peeking out through time and space.

“I should have Steve finish the mural.”

Tony pressed his lips into a thin line, and nodded. “Right.” 

He wasn’t making eye contact, though, was staring at the crib, mouth twitching at the corners. “Antoshka?”

“We should probably get rid of all this shit, too, huh?”

Bucky looked over his shoulder, and felt his stomach give a little twist. Tony had pulled out Stevie’s favorite shirt ( _red, with the duck on it_ ) and draped it over the side of the crib. The wagon Bucky had picked out was tucked under the crib, along with a box of all the little bath toys they’d had a love-hate relationship with.

And there it was again, that strange feeling like someone had played a trick on him, forcing him into something he hadn’t wanted, only to yank it all away when he realized how very wrong he’d been. Once they’d been in the thick of it, Bucky understood that parenthood was only terrifying because recognizing it was something he wanted would change everything about their lives.

He thought of Tony, soaking wet, and with fingerpaint still in his hair, the two of them trying to get Stevie cleaned up, and failing miserably. He’d only been joking when he’d said they were awful at it, but Tony had instantly come back with, “Personally, I think we’re awesome,” the absolute certainty right there in his voice, and shining in his eyes.

“What if I don’t wanna get rid of it?” Bucky blurted, grabbing for the shirt. The idea of giving it all away left him unsettled, and a little sick to his stomach.

Tony reached out, and traced the duck with his fingertips, then pulled his hand back and shoved it into his pocket. “So, what, we keep it all locked up in here forever? Come in every once in a while, cry over what could have been?”

Bucky blinked back his sudden tears, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. He knew Tony well enough to recognize what he was doing. Every time Bucky tried to talk sense into him, though, Tony came back at him with perfectly rational reasons why it was a horrible idea for two _superheros_ to adopt a child. The problem was, Tony desperately wanted ( _needed_ ) Bucky to change his mind, make it okay for him to say yes.

“No. We stop pretending we’re gonna go back to normal—whatever the hell that was—and admit that we both want to adopt a kid, already.” 

Although he didn’t regret the words, Bucky still winced over the bluntness of the confession, the way his voice had gone all loud and angry at the end. He’d never quite come out and said it like _that_ before. But it was true. He missed being a father more than he missed his flesh and blood arm. 

Even though he knew Tony had been better at it ( _better than anyone had expected, especially himself_ ), Bucky had been right there with him, thrown into the deep end of parenting. He’d changed diapers, and stayed up with a crying baby, rocked him to sleep, or tickled Steve until he squealed. Had spent hours just holding Steve, nose tucked into his soft hair, desperately attempting to burn the sensation into his memory, knowing at any minute it could be taken away.

Tony was staring at him like he couldn’t decide whether he should be crying, shouting, or running away. Bucky sighed, and stroked his cheek. “Antoshka… I _know_ you miss it as much as I do. More, even. Why the hell are you still fighting me on this?”

“No one is going to give us a kid.”

And there it was. Tony had talked on and on about all the reasons why people _shouldn’t_ , but this was the first time he’d phrased it quite like that. As if he’d finally decided this was something worth being selfish and irrational about, only to come to the realization there was no hope.

“Bullshit.” Tony blinked, as Bucky tapped against the arc reactor. “I happen to know for a fact that my husband is a genius who’s overcome some pretty ridiculous odds to get where he is today.”

“James,” he said, but Bucky could already feel the tide turning in his favor. Tony was leaning into his touch, and looking at him with hope in his big brown eyes.

“We can find a way to make this work, Antoshka.”

Tony swallowed, ducked his head, then looked up again, all searching intensity. “You’re sure this is something you want? We can’t exactly give a kid back if we change our minds.”

“Don’t _you_ want to be a dad again?” Bucky countered.

“No,” he said, but Tony was smiling. “That’s all you. I’ll stick with being mom.”

The giddiness caught him by surprise, bubbling up and leaving him anxious, and excited, and very much interested in kissing Tony again. Bucky decided that wasn’t a bad idea, as far as ideas went, so he took away Tony’s crutches, and propped them against the crib, then turned back around to pull him up and into his arms, leaving his feet dangling above the ground.

“I love you,” he explained between fervent kisses.

Tony’s fingers wound through his hair, tugging gently. “Love you, too. James," and he wriggled, trying to escape, smile there and gone and there again. "It's not that simple."

Bucky set him down, laughing when Tony pulled a face and looked at his shirt, which was now damp with Bucky's sweat. "Sorry."

Tony picked at the fabric, mouth going all twitchy again. So Bucky grabbed his hand, and tugged, leading him out of the room. "Come on. Talk me through it."

"Through what?"

"Your plan. I know you have one," Bucky insisted, squeezing Tony's hand. "I can hear it in your voice."

Tony squeezed back, but then dug in his heels. "Yeah, okay. Maybe. I've been thinking about it more." He blinked up at Bucky, and gave a little nod toward the bathroom. "Go shower. I'll make us breakfast."

It seemed ominous somehow, reminded Bucky of a conversation with Pepper about omelets. "You will?"

"I'll toast you a bagel, and make coffee," Tony said with a smile, but there was an edge to his voice, and he was pleading with his eyes.

"Alright. If that's what you want. I'll be right back."

Tony nodded, pressed a kiss to Bucky's hand, then let go and headed for the kitchen, ghost of a limp altering his gait. Bucky took a deep breath, then headed off to take as quick a shower as humanly possible.

Under the spray of water, his mind raced. He wasn't worried about _them_ , exactly. Tony wasn't going anywhere without Bucky, and vice versa. But he also wasn't naive enough to think what they were proposing was in any way, shape, or form easy. Couples ran into issues adopting all the time, especially same-sex couples. Add in the dangerous nature of their lives and it was no wonder Tony was running low on optimism.

Bucky tugged on clean clothes, ran a comb through his hair, then headed out, mildly surprised to find Tony had managed to put together a halfway decent spread. Bacon, eggs, the aforementioned bagel, and some fruit.

"I cheated," Tony said, spotting the surprise that must have been all over Bucky's face. "Bruce and Sam made breakfast. But I _did_ toast the bagel, so..."

Bucky walked around the table, tipped Tony's face up with a finger beneath his chin, and dropped a kiss onto his waiting lips. "Thank you, breakfast thief."

Feeling stranded somewhere between giddy and nervous, Bucky took a seat, along with a big bite of bagel, which meant he had his mouth full and almost choked when Tony announced, "I'm going to retire Iron Man."

"What?" he squeaked, coughing into his fist and letting his bagel fall back onto the plate. "Antoshka, I don't—"

"Been thinking about it a lot, lately," Tony interrupted, but he sounded less tense, more confident. It was as if saying the words out loud had made it all a reality, a relief. "I'm about to become a huge cliche here; I'm getting too old for this shit, James."

"You're not _old_ ," Bucky snapped, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Tony smiled. "You're biased, sweetheart. Age is more than a number. It's... This last time, being out of commission? Sure, the leg healed up, but it aches in the morning, and I have yet _another_ collection of scars, and I don't know how the hell Nat and Clint bounce back so well, but I'm... It's going to catch up before too long, James."

Bucky swallowed around the tangle of emotions Tony's words conjured. "I know." He laughed to himself, even as he wiped hurriedly at his eyes to push aside the tears. 

If he was being honest with himself, Tony's announcement wasn't even much of a shock. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd been waiting for this.

"Damn. I... Okay. Right." Bucky grabbed for Tony's hand and squeezed. "Guess I'm not surprised. Not really.” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, and Bucky started in on his breakfast again. “You obeyed doctor's orders, Antoshka.”

“Fair enough,” Tony snorted, and slouched back in his seat. “Not exactly what I’m known for, huh?”

Bucky stared into his mug of coffee. “I convinced myself you loved being an Avenger too much to give it up."

"Me too," Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "But my head's not in it the way it was, which makes me more of a liability to the team than an asset." 

Even if it was true, it still sat wrong with Bucky having to hear Tony make the admission. It was unsettling to think of the Avengers without Iron Man, but leaving on his terms was a million times better than it happening because Tony had been killed in action. Bucky’s appetite slipped away at the thought.

“So what happens now?”

Tony sighed. “Well, I’d need to discuss it with Steve, but I was thinking Rhodey should take my place. I’m about ninety-eight percent sure he’d go for it. What do you think?”

Bucky toyed with his piece of bacon, suddenly feeling the weight of the shield on his back, just for a moment. Carrying it had changed him, even if it was only ( _thankfully_ ) for a little while. “He’d be a great addition to the team,” he finally answered, some of Tony's tension easing after receiving Bucky's vote of approval. “I understand Iron Man is out of the picture, but what about Tony Stark?”

“What about me?” Tony countered, folding his arms across his chest.

“I honestly believe you can walk away from the field, Antoshka, but let’s not pretend you’re going to be able to sit on the sidelines entirely. We’re going to run into something we can’t wrap our heads around, or Steve’s going to need you to challenge him when he’s being too stubborn for his own good, or Reed will build something horrible. What then?”

Tony opened and closed his mouth a few times before opting to snatch up his mug, and swallow a large mouthful of coffee. “Well. I guess that’s when I provide a consultation,” he said with a smile. “Someone has to keep Richards in check.”

“So we don’t have to move out of the Tower?”

“No,” Tony rocked forward, looking caught by surprise. “No way, James. We’re all a family, now, and if we’re going to raise kids together, I want them to be surrounded by family. They shouldn't ever have to feel alone the way I did.”

Bucky was hit by a wave of feelings ( _happiness, anticipation, gratitude, fear, sympathy_ ) and had to lean over and almost through his breakfast in order to kiss Tony. 

“Kids?" was all he managed, letting the rest slide away.

Tony swallowed visibly, wide eyed. "Or kid, singular."

"I like the sound of plural," Bucky countered. He thought of his own siblings, and even though it hurt, it filled his heart to bursting. "Hell, if we're already going through the trouble of adopting one, the more the merrier."

"If we're even able to," Tony countered. "Money will help, but..."

As Bucky watched, Tony absently spun his wedding band, and chewed on his lower lip.

"Hey, before you get all worked up again about the impossibility of us adopting, let's have Pepper look into options.” 

Tony exhaled shakily, his eyes bright with gratitude when he looked up again. "Yeah. Okay, I'll call her later." Bucky handed over a piece of bacon, and Tony accepted, crunching on it thoughtfully. “There’s also surrogacy, but I’d rather not go the Hollywood route.”

Bucky was already waving away the suggestion. “Right there with you. Already too many kids out there looking for homes. It’d feel… wrong, somehow?”

“Exactly.”

Looking at Tony, Bucky could see the change in him already, knew there wouldn’t be another conversation at three in the morning, Tony panicked over the idea of trading fatherhood ( _motherhood_ ) for the hero business. The aftermath of Steve’s transformation had left a mark on him, on both of them—on the entire team, really—and for the first time, Tony seemed to fully embrace the change, to wear it with pride. More than any of them, he’d faced his demons, and come out the other side stronger for having done so.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Antoshka.” Tony hung his head, ever shy in the face of compliments that mattered, then looked up through his lashes, eyes bright with emotion. “We’re really doing this.”

“Yeah, yeah we are.” Tony leaned over and grabbed another slice of Bucky’s bacon. “We’re going to be amazing at it, too.”

“Of course we are.” Bucky’s face hurt from smiling. “Did you care about gender, or race—” Tony was already shaking his head. “Good. Me neither.”

It was tempting to let himself get carried away, rush into Stevie’s room, straighten up, get it ready for the next occupant. Or occupants. Which was silly, of course. It could be years before they were able to adopt, and there was no guarantee they’d wind up with a child young enough to even need a crib, or a little red shirt emblazoned with a duck.

“Hey, JARVIS,” Bucky called, watching Tony begin eating breakfast in earnest. “What do you think, can you handle having a little brother or sister?”

Tony’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open a bit, as if Bucky had just done something amazing.

“It would be a privilege, sir.”

At this, Tony all but leapt from his seat to get his arms around Bucky, which was a fine turn of events by his reckoning. Bucky pulled him onto his lap, wrapped him up tight, smiling against Tony’s skin.

“My family is the best family,” Tony insisted, punctuating the remark with a kiss.

“Speaking of family, when should we talk to the team?"

"Pepper first. Then Steve. And then we have our family meeting, I guess, see if anyone objects?"

"They won't," Bucky assured him, rubbing circles against Tony’s back. “Probably give us shit for taking so long.”

Tony laughed, wiping at his eyes, pushing aside his tears. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“We _are_ going to be great at this,” Bucky said, feeling the certainty in his bones. “Look at what a good job we did with Stevie.”

“Oh, you were showering, so you missed him and Sam mooning over each other at breakfast,” Tony said, smile shifting toward mischievous. “Somebody got laid.”

Bucky burst out laughing, shaking enough that Tony tightened his grip so he wouldn’t fall off. “That’s what I said! No poker face, that kid.” 

“Our little boy is all grown up,” Tony murmured, just a hint of melancholy in his eyes, there and gone again. “James. Thanks for being patient.”

“I knew you’d get there.” Bucky pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you, Antoshka.”

“I know,” Tony answered, grinning ear to ear. “Love you, too, James Buchanan Stark.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note on Tony retiring Iron Man. Um. Tony says a lot of things, okay? Let's just see how it plays out, shall we? *cough* because he _is_ Iron Man and babies ain't gonna change that shit
> 
> Meanwhile, it's been longer than I thought, apparently, uh... But we're back with more! Seriously, there has been so much Tony/Bucky writing going on over in [imagine-ville](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) that for me it feels like _Regression Analysis_ just wrapped. And yet, here we are, 6 months to the day. Well, I shall do my best not to make you wait that long for the next bit! We'll either go back and enjoy their wedding, or go forward and enjoy their foray into parenthood. Mwahahahahaha...


End file.
